This Guy Is Worse Than “Red Asphalt”

, , , , , , | Learning | July 29, 2020

When I was in high school, our school offered a driver’s ed course. It was a classroom-only course to learn the rules of the road; there was no practical driving in an actual vehicle. I’m convinced that the teacher they’d chosen for this class hated teenagers. Why he was teaching in a high school, I’ll never know.

On the very first day of class, he told us all that he “believed that no teenager should ever drive a car” and that his own teenage son was forbidden from taking a driver’s ed course until [Teacher] was satisfied with how much he knew about driving. I always wondered how the poor kid was expected to learn enough to satisfy his dad without taking any classes. 

Throughout the class, the teacher would tell us graphic stories about what would happen if we drank and drove, used our phone while driving, or even had the radio on in the car. Here are some of my favorites.

He described getting into a car accident and getting thrown through the windshield because, of course, we aren’t wearing seatbelts. This one included a handout with a graphic play-by-play of the horrific damage done to your body from one moment to the next. 

He described taking a run turn too quickly on a motorcycle, losing control, and crashing into a cornfield. In this particular lovely scenario, both of our legs are broken, so it takes three days to drag ourselves back to the road so anyone can see us to rescue us. I’m not sure how far into this hypothetical cornfield he imagined we’d be thrown.

By the end of the five-week course, half of the fifteen- or sixteen-year-old students in the class that had been so excited about getting a license were now completely terrified of going anywhere near a vehicle. 

This was a fine example of a teacher with no interest in teaching. He didn’t want teenagers to drive, and he certainly got what he wanted. I don’t think a single one of us felt prepared for behind-the-wheel practice after that class.

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Unfiltered Story #201633

, , | Unfiltered | July 29, 2020

(I’m working the drive thru during a closing shift. We’ve slowed down quite a bit, and most orders even then are for our seasonal mint-flavored shake. A couple drives up to the window.)
Me: Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]. What can I get for you?
Customer: I’d like two extra large mint shakes.
Me: I’m sorry, but the biggest size our shakes go to is large.
Customer: Oh. Well, I’ll have two extra large…
Me: We do not have ‘extra large.’ We have small, medium, or large. That’s it.
Customer: You don’t have extra large?
Me: No.
Customer: How about ‘monster’?
Me: No.
Customer: What about ‘giant’?
(From the passenger’s seat I can hear his companion say “Just stop it” and I have to take a deep breath.)
Me: No. The biggest size that we go up to is a LARGE.
Customer, after at least five seconds: Alright. I’ll have two large mint shakes.
Me: Your total is [total].
(My manager cashed it out for me and was nice enough to let me sit in the back for a few minutes.)

Unfiltered Story #201631

, , | Unfiltered | July 29, 2020

(I’m an order-taker for a catalog company. In the US, if a company has a physical location in a state (store, warehouse, office building, etc) then that company is required to charge a sales tax for any items shipped to customers in that state. My employer only has a handful of physical stores, but 2 of them are in Illinois.)

Me: Thank you for calling (catalog company), my name is (my name). How can I help you today?

Caller: I just placed an order a few minutes ago, and I think the lady charged me more than she was supposed to.

Me: I can certainly look that up and see what’s happening, do you have the order number handy?

(I look up the order and verify that I have the right file. When I try to read the order back, she interrupts and starts listing the charges without pausing long enough for me to ask any more questions. I have a calculator nearby, so I punch in the numbers as she lists them, making sure they match what’s on my screen.)

Caller: And that only adds up to $174.49. She charged me $184.96. She charged me too much money!

Me: It looks like there’s also a sales tax of $10.47 on th-

Caller: (Angrily) Sales tax! You can’t charge me a sales tax, I’m not in Wisconsin!

Me: We’re required to charge a sales tax for –

Caller: (Interrupting) That’s illegal!

Me: Actually, it’s a legal requirement.

Caller: I just ordered from 2 other places, and they never said anything about any sales tax!

Me: The law says we have to charge sales tax for any state we have a physical location in. If they don’t have-

Caller: It’s against the law for you to charge sales taxes!

Me: Actually, it’s against the law for us not to charge it.

Caller: You’re breaking the law!!! I’m never ordering from you again, you’re all a bunch of crooks! You can’t charge people like that! I’m telling the police about you!

Me: …. That’s certainly your right. Are there any other questions I can help you with?

Unfiltered Story #201551

, , , | Unfiltered | July 25, 2020

I am the customer in this scenario. My son and I were ordering lunch at a popular chicken place. Usually both the food and the service at this location are sub par, if not outright terrible. However, that was not the case this time. The young man serving as cashier was energetic, polite, and overall provided excellent service. We get done eating and return to the cashier at the front.
Me: “Excuse me? I just wanted to mention that I am someone who really appreciates good customer service, and that yours was exceptional. So thank you!”.
*His face lit up with a brilliant smile*: “Hey wow, thanks so much! I really appreciate that!”.
Me: “No problem, man, keep it up. Have a good day.”.
Felt good to make that guy’s day!

Thank God Period Pain Isn’t Contagious

, , , , , , | Working | July 24, 2020

Due to a certain illness outbreak, my work has created a secondary call-in phone line specifically for the illness, in addition to the regular associate call-in line. Thanks to worse-than-normal menstrual cramps, I call in one day through the regular line. I also specify that it’s nothing contagious, so I don’t have to worry about being cleared by HR to be allowed back into the building.

The next day I return with no problems from HR. Later that day, I’m confronted by a male coworker who likes to act like management, even though we’re at the same pay level, and he only has a month seniority on me.

Coworker: “Did you get cleared by HR to come back? I’m not getting sick just because you think you can cut corners.”

Me: “I wasn’t contagious, so I don’t need to be cleared for anything.”

Coworker: “Um, yes, you do! If I had to be cleared after my trip to Minnesota, so do you!”

Me: “You flew there, and when everything started up, we were told that everybody flying would have to be cleared by HR first. I didn’t have anything contagious, so I don’t have to be cleared.”

Coworker:No! If you’re sick, you have to be cleared! You think, just because you’re a girl, that you can do whatever you want?!”

Me: “Nope. I think that, because I was bleeding due to my uterine lining flaking off and being evicted, more painfully than normal, I didn’t feel like standing for a nine-hour shift on a forklift. Any other complaints?”

His mouth flapped like a fish’s a couple of times and then he stalked off. He later whined to our immediate union steward, who has no issue with telling dummies off. Our steward told him that, even with our natural issues, each of the four female floor workers do twice as much work as he does.

He later told me that if the coworker really wanted to whine about the girls getting “special privileges,” he should get hooked up to one of those wired machines that lets you feel what a period feels like.

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